Louder Than Words
by Razer Athane
Summary: There's a smirk on my face as I turn away to leave, "'Course you don't. Because, you know, actions speak louder than words." -Xiaorang, Oneshot-


Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Tekken.

Author's Note: -shrugs- Been meaning to write more Xiaorang. So this appeared. Wrote it in about forty-five minutes because I didn't want to focus on my Uni work anymore. That, and to try and cheer myself up!

* * *

**LOUDER THAN WORDS

* * *

**

"He's a dick."

She glares at me incredulously, and Miharu's laughing in the background while sipping on her coffee. It takes her several moments to process what was spat out of my mouth, but once the pieces click, her voice reminds me of a snake's hiss, and it's uncharacteristically angry. Every letter that slips from her lips is gritty from the annoyance, "What did you say?"

"I said 'he's a dick'," I repeat, looking up from the manhwa I'm reading, looking at her from behind my shoe that's resting against the table's edge, "'He' being 'Kazama', and 'dick' being 'utterly retarded and you shouldn't approach him or even bother because he's going to shoot you down'."

Xiaoyu closes up her lunch box, still glaring at me. My gaze has since long re-diverted to this manhwa – the porn part, finally – and I don't see her approach me. The slap across the face, though, certainly makes me refocus, and with an unamused expression, I look at her, "Aaaand what was that for, Pigtails?"

"You called my best friend a dick. I think my response was justifiable!"

"I was calling my _rival _a dick."

"Yeah, your rival who just _conveniently _happens to be my best friend! Apologise right now!"

It's that last part of the statement that has me quirk my eyebrow before looking back to the manhwa, exhaling sharply, "Are you shitting me? I'm not gonna apologise for something that's true. Your head's not screwed on right, missy. Needs some fixin'."

She hates it when I talk to her like that, but I can't really tell her in any other way. She's been fawning over this guy, Jin Kazama, for the last few months, and it's driving me up the fucking wall. It's bad enough that I got that goddamn draw from this prick, but adding her constant 'Jin this, Jin that, Jinny Jin Jin' makes my head hurt. Really now, if she thought she had any hope in him left, then he would've at least _spoken _to her, right? He's ignored her the entire time.

And that, my friend, is a sign of being a dick.

This… whole talk started because she's planning on asking him out for the school fundraising dance or whatever. Miharu's trying to be supportive, and good on her for that, but someone here's gotta be realistic, right? And then you guys came in and this mess happened. But hey, that's what our friendship's like – messy, unorganised and… free, I suppose. Don't know how else to describe it and I can't imagine it any other way.

My manhwa's suddenly missing. Wondering where it went, I quickly glance around – and then it's thrown back in my face with a surprising amount of force. There's a shrill and then feet hurriedly stamping off and out of the café, the same one we all hang out at after school's over and shit, "I can't _believe _you! Why can't you just support me just this once?"

Her words phase me a little inside, but it's easy to hide the impact by grabbing the manhwa and reading again, ignoring the burning eyes around the room, including Miharu. She sighs and stands, grabbing her things, intending on heading out after her and trying to make her feel better with some type of sugary treat. I don't say anything, I just let her go. This isn't my department.

Before she leaves entirely, though, I feel her palm slam straight into my face and push me downwards, causing me to lose my perfectly constructed balance on my chair and fall flat onto my back. The manhwa's on my face again, and my spine's killing me; and all I hear is her fading voice, "_You're _the one being a dick, Red."

My arms are folded across my chest afterwards.

* * *

They're both ignoring me the next day, which is fine. I don't need 'em. I'm fine on my own.

They give me sideward glances, and sometimes I think Xiao's eyes might be able to kill me. That or she's secretly begging me for more math answers, because that's something that I'm good at and she's shit at. Either way, I ate alone, I kicked the ball alone, I did everything alone, and I can take it just fine. At least, I feel I can.

I feel I can until I see her walking towards Kazama again with those fucking love-struck eyes.

Its lunch again, the day after the earlier incident, and I'm chewing on a hotteok – look, I know its not quite winter yet, I just wanted one – and leaning against the wall when I see it happen. She approaches with high hopes, Miharu's tailing her in silence, and the arms are waving again – 'Hiii Jiiin!' – anddd like an unfeeling, shitty wall, he ignores her entirely and continues to chew on his meal. He's just staring into space, and she's talking about her day.

_You're an idiot, Xiao._

The one-sided conversation continues on for quite a while, and it looks like Miharu's given up trying to stop her. With a simple shrug, I stroll over until I'm standing in front of all of them, and it's my shadow that makes Kazama look up instead of listening to the droning speech beside him. He looks at me expectantly, and I can feel Xiao's dread emitting in volumes.

"You know," I state nonchalantly, taking another bite of my hotteok, "You could at least say 'hi' back to her."

There's a small grunt, and Jin merely picks up his things and scampers off elsewhere to the playground. He's not looking for a fight today, and neither am I, if I'm honest – and Miharu just stares at me in silent thanks, because she's as sure as hell not gonna get her ear torn off by the fuming Japanese youth nearby.

"Wh… _Why _did you do _that?_" she yells, exasperated.

She's standing now, her head only just comes up just under the middle of my chest, and her tiny hands are settled on her hips. Her fingers are digging into her skin as she glares up at me in the way a sibling would as I point out innocently, "Well, its true. You're always greeting him and buying him something random, yet he never says 'hi' or 'thanks'. I guess his Mommy never taught him any manners. Don't tell me you haven't notice though, yeah?"

There's silence.

Then there's a sob. A sniffle. And a hiccup.

Those pieces, they finally fell together.

"You never had a chance," I say softly, "Sorry, kiddo."

And then she's gone. And Miharu's after her again.

I might not be all that awesome at comforting and whatever, but that doesn't mean that I wish I knew how.

The last of my hotteok is stuffed into my mouth. It feels like its closing up.

* * *

It's homeroom time, and there's a voice by my ear.

"We gotta talk."

I look up from this new manhwa – I finished that last edition on the bus last week – and eye Miharu cautiously, letting a 'mhm' slip. It's about Xiao, because she hasn't been to school in the past week since I busted the nasty news to her. But hey, its better that she heard it from a friend than from Kazama himself, right? Being away from school for a week's a bit of an overreaction in my opinion, though.

I mean… I never cried when I never got the girl.

She pulls up a seat next to me and yanks the manhwa from my hands, much to my annoyance, before closing it and setting it on the table. She then grabs the top of my head and makes me look at her, and I can see in her eyes that she's not exactly happy. She then leans an elbow on the table and her chin on her hand, "Aren't you going to let this stupid rivalry go?"

"_What?_" I snipe, "You think that's why I said those things to her?"

"I'm _certain _of it," she seethes, narrowing her eyes at me. She pauses and then adds, "And look, I'm on your side here, I know he's not interested – but really now, you could've done it gently instead of… well… like _that._"

"I don't know how. I was just trying to be realistic. Always was."

"Well right now there's an upset little girl holding a stuffed panda bear and wondering where it all went wrong. You need to go over there and do the comforting, for a change," she runs her fingers through her hair, "She needs to hear it from you too. She's acting like she's broken up with him or something."

"Sure, because they were totally together," I hiss.

Inwardly, I kick myself, because my weakness was shown. And she'll pick it up.

Miharu's eyebrows raise, "You like her."

"No," turn the page, stare into the picture, pretend that I'm invincible.

"You do!" she pokes me in the side, forcing me to squirm a bit because it's uncomfortable, "You really, really do. No wonder you were so vehement about getting her away from Jin, you wanted her all to yourself. All those times that you glared at her when she was with him – this all makes perfect, perfect sense now!"

My eyes divert to Miharu for a few moments as I speak from behind the manhwa, "I might care, I might not. She can have a boyfriend if she wants, or a girlfriend if she swings that way. I just didn't want her hurt. Obviously I didn't factor my rudeness into the 'harming equation'."

"Actions," she states, standing and going to leave, "speaks louder than words do."

"Whatever," I mutter, turning the page.

As I said before… I never cried when I never got the girl.

* * *

Stupid fucking Miharu and her stupid fucking guilt trip.

When Xiao opens the door to her bedroom, she's a mess. She's also only got a giant shirt on, but I attempt to ignore that and squeeze myself in despite her protests. Her embarrassment eventually forces her to shut the door and watch me sit cross-legged on her bed, and I hear her growl at me at how I should've taken my shoes off, and then question what I'm doing here.

…Her room is so goddamn pink.

"Are you going to answer me or what?" she groans.

Instead, I stuff chocolate and some polar bear thing into her chest. She stares at me in bewilderment before gently taking them and looking at them. I already feel like a douche, so I just look at the ground with furrowed eyebrows and mutter, "I was only trying to be realistic… wasn't trying to hurt you. Sorry."

The silence that follows is so uncomfortable…

"Thank you," she merely states, looking up at me – but it's that smile that made it worth it.

I stand to leave, but as I move, she gives me a hug. Without hesitation, I accept and return it, before suddenly finding myself kissing her and her hands are trying to get into my hair and – the whole thing's just gone from an apology to a make-out session, somehow. Don't even remember making a move, and _I know _she wouldn't have.

Then everything stops, and I'm blinking, wondering when I suddenly deemed it feasible to do that.

"I-I don't like you," she stammers, looking down, her cheeks still furiously red.

She knows she's lying. I know she's lying. And that's fine, for now.

There's a smirk on my face as I turn away to leave, "'Course you don't. Because, you know, actions speak louder than words."


End file.
